


Closing Doors

by Ressick



Series: A Seattle Grace Family [2]
Category: Grey's Anatomy, Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ressick/pseuds/Ressick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica Hahn is unexpectedly reminded of her past in Seattle while treating a patient named Angela Rizzoli.  [September 2018]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing Doors

**Author's Note:**

> There have been a lot of “Erica Hahn Returns” fics that I’ve seen, many of them awesome. Not so many involve Grey’s characters, specifically Arizona, meeting her outside Seattle. This popped into my head and had to be written down.

Boston, September 2018

 

Erica Hahn wasn’t generally a fan of the families of her patients.  They tended to be panicked and rarely understood whatever she told them.  So it was quite a relief to meet the extended Rizzoli family.  The daughter and two sons were typical patient family, hovering over the woman in the bed, visibly anxious, but the one blonde, obviously a spouse, was, thankfully, sane, calm, rational, and seemed to have a medical background given what Erica could hear.  Maura Isles absentmindedly bounced a young child on one hip, and talked into her cell while reviewing the chart at the end of Angela Rizzoli’s bed with her free hand.

 

“Yes, Teddy, it looks like a triple bypass with a valve replacement at the least, but we haven’t talked to Dr Hahn yet.  I’d still be reassured if you could review the scans.  Yes, Erica Hahn.  She came highly recommended locally.  I will call you back when I can have the files sent.  Thank you.”  She hung up the phone and closed the chart just as Erica moved into her field of vision.  “Dr Hahn?  Dr Maura Isles-Rizzoli.  A pleasure to meet you, under the circumstances.  Your reputation proceeds you.”

 

Erica let her eyebrow arch.  “I can’t say the same.  What’s your specialty, doctor?”

 

“Dead people,” came the curt answer from the other woman in the room.

 

“Jane,” Maura admonished.  She turned back to Erica, “Please excuse my wife.  I’m the chief medical examiner for the Commonwealth.  It’s unlikely we would have crossed paths professionally.”

 

“Ah,” Erica replied.  She had a healthy respect for forensics, but while she was far from a social person, she did prefer her patients alive.  “Well, from what I heard as I walked in, you’re fairly close on the mark.  Angela will need a triple bypass and two valve replacements.  The surgery is rather routine, but it seems you’d like a second opinion?”  She tried not to allow her annoyance to seep through.  She was the best on the East Coast, had finally surpassed Preston Burke, had worked so very hard to reach that professional peak, and wasn’t terribly happy when patients or their families demanded a second opinion.

 

“I find it best to always ask for multiple opinions if time permits.  I’ve learned in my work that evidence requires many points of view to be interpreted most accurately.  And also, our second opinion is a friend of the family.  Dr Theodora Altman, Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery at Seattle Grace-Mercy West.  She doesn’t have your accolades in research, of course, but her stem cell study is very promising,” Maura smiled. 

 

Erica cringed internally.  She’d tried to forget Seattle Grace, and this woman who she’d be sending charts to must have been her own replacement.  “Of course.  I’m familiar with the hospital, they are excellent.  If you could give me her contact information, I’ll forward Angela’s scans and charts as soon as we finish here.”  She moved on to detail the surgery for the rest of the family, with Maura occasionally translating further or asking a question. 

 

Overall, besides the sudden reminder of a past she’d rather forget, it’s one of the least stressful patient discussions she’s had in months.  She tries to put it out of her mind as she emails the various scans and test results to this Dr Altman.  And she avoids looking at the rest of the staff directory.  She hasn’t checked it since the shooting years ago which made national headlines, when she had news updates sent to her phone as it happened and afterwards, and then two weeks later checked the directory to make sure that Callie Torres was still listed on staff and not on the memorial page.  She had been, as an Ortho attending, and then Erica had shoved her worry and guilt aside - back to where it had lived ever since she walked out of that parking lot, and moved on, favoring the computer screen with one tight smile.  No matter the personal issues she’d had with Callie or much of the rest of Seattle Grace, she was a damn fine surgeon, and Erica allowed herself a moment of happiness that her ex-friend, ex-lover, ex-whatever had been promoted.

 

X-X-X-X

 

She doesn’t get an email back from Altman until she’s already left for the evening, scheduling Angela Rizzoli’s procedure for two days in the future.  The woman needs surgery, but she’s strong and time is not completely of the essence.  She likes these surgeries, ones where she isn’t fighting an hourglass down to its last few grains of sand.  Where she can be careful and methodical and exacting.  Her personality thrives when she’s deep in someone’s chest and has time to do everything by the book.  The book she has pretty much written over the last ten years since fleeing Seattle for Boston. 

 

Erica Hahn is now a byword for cardio goddess, as Cristina Yang had called her years ago.  She immersed herself in research and surgery upon landing at Logan, and never looked back.  Occasionally she’d date, for a short period of time, just to get the release, the need for some closeness or physical intimacy, but since Callie Torres she hasn’t opened up her mind or heart nearly as much.  She mourns more for the loss of the best friend she’d ever had than for the lover who opened her eyes.

 

But this Altman she’s emailed, who replaced her, isn’t bad.  She’d looked the woman up, reading her profile on the SGMW website and doing a quick search for articles Altman had authored.  Decorated surgeon for the Army, with excellent results and interesting techniques.  Her work with stem cells for cardiac repair looked very promising.  So when Altman replies to her email, seconding her diagnosis and plan for Angela Rizzoli, she feels somewhat validated professionally.  No matter how cliquey SGMW is, it does produce more than its fair share of outstanding surgeons. 

 

For a moment, she considers what gossip this Altman might have heard about her, and almost wants to email the woman back with, “ _How’s Callie?”_  but she doubts her therapist would approve.  She’s kept her ears open, she knows Callie won a Harper-Avery a few years ago for her work on synthetic cartilage, almost sent her a card for it, but beyond that she knows nothing.  She had no other real friends at Seattle Grace, and she won’t become that creepy ex. 

 

X-X-X-X

 

When she walks into Angela’s room the next morning, to share Altman’s email and discuss their second opinion, there is a tall, blond woman looking over Angela’s chart with Maura Isles and a carryon suitcase casually dumped on a free chair.  A shorter blond is quietly reading to the child Maura had been carrying the day before as well as a slightly younger girl.  The shorter woman looks vaguely familiar, but Erica can’t place her.

 

“Oh, Dr Hahn!” Maura greets her.  “I hope you don’t mind.  Angela insisted Teddy fly out to see her in person.”

 

Dr Altman looks deeply embarrassed, as does the blonde with the children.  Though there’s something else in the shorter woman’s eyes that Erica can’t place.  She ignores it in favor of squashing the anger rising in her.

 

“My apologies, Dr Hahn.  But when Angela asks you do to something, you do it,” Dr Altman says, offering her hand.  “I’m sure you got my email?  I think you’ve got a great surgery plan.”  Erica shakes her hand briskly.

 

“Thank you, Dr Altman,” Erica replies coolly. 

 

“And this is my best friend since medical school, Dr Arizona Robbins.  She’ll be helping us with Angela’s after-care once we can bring her home,” Maura introduces the woman with the children.

 

It hits Erica where she’s met the shorter woman before.  Robbins had been a pediatric attending for a few months before she left Seattle.  They’d had a couple of cases together, but had never really hit it off.  The woman was insanely perky.  “Of course, Dr Robbins.  It’s been awhile,” she says, nodding.  The other woman’s smile is tight, fixed, but she nods back.

 

“Dr Hahn,” the reply is almost cool, and far from the happy go lucky tone of voice she vaguely recalls.  Of course, it had been a decade, but even the girl in Robbins’ lap looks mildly concerned at her tone.

 

“Well, since we’re all agreed on the course of action, I’ve scheduled Angela’s surgery for tomorrow morning,” Erica says, moving back to the matter at hand.

 

Jane Rizzoli, sitting next to Robbins with her son on her lap, speaks up for the first time, slightly uncomfortable in the room full of MDs.  “Not to be a jackass, but can Teddy observe the surgery?  Everyone says you’re great, Dr Hahn, but we’d feel better if someone we knew was in the room.”

 

Altman laughs awkwardly.  “Jane, that’s not necessary.  Erica Hahn is one of the best cardiac surgeons in the world.  You’re too used to being around doctors you know.  Just because you call Arizona for every one of Joseph’s sniffles doesn’t mean I need to be in the OR tomorrow.”

 

Erica is not terribly surprised by the request, despite being offended by it.  Patients who are close to other doctors, particularly surgeons, tend to be the most difficult.  Maura Isles is in a way refreshing, in that she seems to be conflicted about her wife’s request and her mother-in-law’s insistence on Teddy’s in-person presence.

 

“Teddy doesn’t have privileges in this hospital, Jane.  And Dr Hahn really is one of the best.  If we were in Seattle it would be a different story, but we’re in Boston.  Besides, she was lucky to have the day off to come.  Do you want her leaving Addison for another day?  Henry just started first grade,” Maura adds to Altman’s response.

 

Erica keeps the surprise off her face.  She remembers Addison, Callie’s best friend, having met her briefly.  It was Addison’s offhand comments that helped push her and her ex together.  She glances at Altman’s left hand, and sees a wedding ring.  Things must have really changed in Seattle if Addison Montgomery was married to a woman.

 

“Sofia just started first grade, and Timmy pre-K, but Arizona’s here,” Jane argued.  At the reference to the rest of Robbins’ family, the four women quiet, and tense.  Erica observes avidly.  Something interesting is going on before her, and despite her anger at the situation, she’s fascinated.

 

The little girl shifted in Robbins’ lap, and piped up as the adults quieted, “Mommy?  ¿Podemos tener helado?”

 

The effortless, familiarly accented Spanish from a small blond child throws Erica for a loop. 

 

“Hable en ingles, baby girl.  You know Aunt Jane and Grandma Angie don’t speak Spanish.  And if you’re good, maybe we can have some after lunch,” Robbins replies.  “Quiet now, the grown-ups need to talk, okay?”  The little girl nods, and snuggles into Robbins’ side, absently playing with her mother’s wedding ring.  Joseph does the same from the other side, both children utterly comfortable despite the strange goings-on of the adults in the room.

 

Erica clears her throat. “What matters is how Angela feels.  If she would feel more comfortable with Dr Altman in the operating room, it can be done.  Or, as this is a teaching hospital, she could observe from the gallery.”  Stuffing down her professional outrage, as obviously all the other women in the room have basically bowed to Angela Rizzoli’s demands in the situation, Erica offers what she can.

 

The woman in the hospital bed speaks up for the first time, “I think I’d like Teddy in the room.”  And that settles it. 

 

Erica nods, “I’ll speak to our chief and see about getting Dr Altman OR privileges.  Given her reputation it shouldn’t be too hard.  Dr Altman, if you like, you can even serve as first assist.”

 

Dr Altman smiles thinly, “Thank you, but I’d rather stay out of the way if I can.  I did an emergency procedure on Arizona’s wife a few years ago, and I can’t do that again outside of absolutely dire circumstances.  Family needs to stay off my table, and Angela’s family.”

 

Erica’s eyes widen, and Robbins shudders at the edge of her vision.  “I understand,” she says.  “I’ll be back once I’ve spoken to the chief.”  With that, she turned and left the room, breathing a sigh of relief.  That was so very strange, and there was a socially awkward current to the discussion she didn’t understand.  Clues niggled at the edge of her consciousness, but she shoved them aside in favor of prepping for the surgery, and dealing with her other patients.

 

X-X-X-X

 

The next morning, Angela Rizzoli’s surgery goes off without a hitch.  Altman was a quiet presence in her OR, observing techniques that she has yet to write up for the journals, asking the occasional question, clearly relishing the chance to watch another surgical master at work.  Erica knows that Altman is the top of her game in Seattle, but that means there’s no one else at her level to work against.  Unless Yang is still there, pushy and demanding.  But Erica has tried not to think of her greatest teaching failure in years. 

 

Once the post-ops are done, and Angela is scheduled for release the next day due to the close observation both Isles and Robbins have planned, Altman leaves to catch her flight home after a round of hugs with the Rizzoli family and Robbins, smacking her lips in an exaggerated fashion against the little girl’s cheek.  The child squeals, and Altman laughs.

 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Dr Hahn,” she says on her way out, carryon clutched in her hand.  “I know it was a difficult situation for you.  And I appreciate the opportunity to observe you at work.  I look forward to seeing some of those techniques of yours in your next journal article.”  The woman nods, and from another surgeon she might expect a professional request to keep in touch, but Altman just smiles tightly and heads for the elevator.

 

As Jane Rizzoli wheels her mother out to the elevator after her release a day later, Maura Isles followed with both her own son and Robbins’ daughter holding her hands.  Robbins hung back, searching Erica’s face for something she can only guess at. 

 

“Yang still calls you the Wicked Witch, you know,” Robbins blurts out, apparently at a loss for non-awkward conversation topics outside of Angela’s prognosis, which is very good.

 

Erica stares for a moment, then barks a laugh.  “I’m not surprised.”

 

Robbins smiles.  “Yang’s a great surgeon.  And she still learned a lot from you, no matter that you hated each other.  She helped Teddy save my wife.”  The shorter woman looked down at her wedding ring, playing with it absently.  “Thank you for that.”  She looked up, meeting Erica’s eyes, fire in her expression.  “And thank you for walking out on my wife in a parking lot ten years ago.  Because it meant I got the chance to love Calliope.  And it gave me my three children.  Goodbye, Erica.”  With that, she turned and walked off, leaving Erica Hahn standing aghast at her ex’s  _wife_. 

 

She almost wants to run after Arizona Robbins, ask after Callie, maybe express regret for how she left, but doesn’t.  That time is long past, and Callie likely hates her for the way she walked away from Seattle Grace.  It explains the coldness from Robbins and Altman, and perhaps even why the Rizzolis called Altman in the first place.  But maybe this will let her close the book on Seattle in her heart.  She lost her best friend in a moment of stupidity and anger, but Callie has obviously moved on.  Maybe she should too.  Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Erica Hahn heads to her next patient.

 

Fin.


End file.
